The tension in the house was palpable as Kirti tried, once again, to adjust to the overwhelming customs of Divit’s family. She had just made a small mistake—forgetting to put the family heirloom on the dining table during lunch. It wasn’t a big deal in her eyes, but the room had gone silent when Nandini’s eyes fell on the empty table.
“Kirti,” Nandini’s voice was sharp, cutting through the silence. “How many times must I remind you? This is an important part of our tradition.”
Kirti felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She glanced around the room, seeing Priya’s smirk and her father-in-law’s disapproving gaze. “I’m sorry, I forgot.”
“Forgot?” Priya’s voice was laced with sarcasm. “It’s only been done in this family for generations. How can you forget?”
Kirti swallowed her frustration. She was doing her best, but it seemed like no matter what she did, it was never enough. She opened her mouth to apologize again when Divit’s voice, calm but firm, interrupted the room’s heavy atmosphere.
“Enough, Priya.” Divit’s gaze was hard as he looked at his sister. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
Priya blinked, clearly not expecting her brother to speak up. “But Bhaiya, it’s—”
“I said, enough.” Divit’s tone brooked no argument. He turned his attention to Nandini. “Mom, Kirti is new to this. She’s trying. Give her time.”
Nandini seemed taken aback by his defence. She looked between Divit and Kirti, clearly weighing her next words. “Of course, she’s trying,” Nandini said, though her voice had softened slightly. “But these traditions are important. She needs to learn them.”
“She will,” Divit said quietly, but his eyes flicked back to Kirti, and for the first time in days, there was something different in them—something gentler. “We can’t expect her to know everything from day one.”
Kirti stood frozen in place, her heart racing. Is this really happening? Divit had never defended her before, never taken her side like this. For the first time, she felt a flicker of warmth, a glimmer of hope.
Divit glanced at her, his eyes meeting hers briefly. He gave her a small nod, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to make her feel like she wasn’t completely alone in this battle.
The rest of the meal passed in relative silence, but the atmosphere had shifted. Kirti could feel the tension easing, even if just slightly. And though Divit remained as distant as ever, there was a newfound awareness between them.
Later that night, the house was quiet. Kirti sat in their bedroom, still replaying the scene from dinner in her mind. She hadn’t expected Divit to stand up for her like that. She had assumed he was as indifferent to her struggles as the rest of the family. But now... now she wasn’t so sure.
The door creaked open, and Divit walked in, his face unreadable as usual. He loosened his tie and hung his jacket on the chair, avoiding eye contact as he moved around the room.
Kirti watched him, her thoughts swirling. She wanted to say something, to acknowledge what had happened earlier, but the words felt stuck in her throat.
Finally, Divit broke the silence. “You okay?”
Kirti blinked, surprised that he was even asking. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said softly. “Thank you... for what you did today.”
Divit paused, then glanced at her. “I didn’t do much.”
“You did more than you think,” Kirti replied, her voice steady. “I know this isn’t easy for you either, but... it meant a lot.”
Divit looked at her for a long moment, and for the first time, his expression seemed to soften. “I don’t like seeing them treat you like that,” he admitted quietly, surprising Kirti even more.
She swallowed, her heart beating a little faster. “It’s hard,” she whispered. “Being here, trying to fit in... sometimes I feel like I’m drowning.”
Divit’s gaze flickered, and he stepped closer, his usual cool detachment replaced by something warmer, something more vulnerable. “I know,” he said softly. “But you’re stronger than you think, Kirti. You’ll get through this.”
His words were simple, but they pierced through the cold distance that had separated them for so long. Kirti’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. Was this the same man who had kept her at arm’s length for weeks? The same man who barely acknowledged her existence?
“Divit...” she began, her voice barely a whisper. She wanted to ask him more, to understand why he had kept himself so distant, but before she could find the words, Divit moved closer, his eyes locked onto hers.
There was a charged silence between them, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Kirti’s heart pounded in her chest as Divit reached out, his hand brushing lightly against her cheek. The touch was soft, tentative, as though he wasn’t sure if he had the right to touch her, but Kirti didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into his touch, her breath hitching at the unexpected tenderness.
“I’m sorry,” Divit whispered, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “For making this harder than it already is.”
Kirti’s eyes softened, and she placed her hand over his, her fingers trembling slightly. “I just want to understand you, Divit,” she said, her voice filled with quiet determination. “I want us to be... something more.”
Divit’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, it looked like he might pull away again and retreat into the walls he had built around himself. But instead, he stepped closer, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, pulling her gently toward him.
“I don’t know if I can give you what you want,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “But... I want to try.”
Kirti’s heart fluttered, and before she could respond, Divit closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a soft, hesitant kiss. It wasn’t fiery or passionate—it was slow, filled with the weight of everything unsaid between them. But in that moment, it was enough.
As their lips moved together, Kirti felt the ice that had surrounded them for weeks begin to melt. Divit’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, and for the first time, she felt like they were finally starting to find their way to each other.
When they finally pulled apart, Divit rested his forehead against hers, his breath ragged. “This is new for me too,” he confessed, his voice low. “But... I’m not going to run anymore.”
Kirti’s heart soared at his words, and she smiled softly, her hands resting against his chest. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
For the first time since their marriage, Kirti felt hope bloom in her chest. It was a small step, but it was a step in the right direction. And in that quiet, intimate moment, she knew that maybe, just maybe, they had a chance to build something real.
As they lay down that night, their bodies close but not quite touching, Kirti felt the weight of the past few weeks lift slightly from her shoulders. The road ahead was still uncertain, but at least now, they were walking it together.
